The, ’it’s just another day’ look in someone’s eyes
subconsciously makes me caress my scars, it even
irritates me a bit, hell, feral dogs have more drive
than some humans I’ve met.
Theory and daydreaming are separated by only a
thin veil between; focus and a step forward.
Social drones, luckless spirits with smiles saying,
“I did this, I’ve done that, I’m going to do it when,”
listen to the little devil on their shoulder
whispering, “Save it for tomorrow.”.
Sloths, climbing about in trees generally have
more ambition than some people, at least
they’ll risk death for a hook-up, for a quick,
‘wham bam, thank-you ma’am.’
Thirty-somethings living in their parent’s basement,
snowflake’s melting under neon lights at happy hour,
bitching, they can’t tell you when they had
their last job interview…
shake off downy fledgling fluff and fly, crawl or run
sink or swim, but just do something.
Scrapes and bruises are merit badges, emotional and
physical scars are; earned purple hearts and silver stars.
If you’re not challenging yourself, you’re not rising
above the hapless daily gloom, hell even dust bunnies
grow with enough momentum.
I heard an old man say once, “Quit your bitching, stop
your damn crying, if you’re not living, then you’re slowly dying.”
That saying still makes me smile as I challenge the day and
slap Satan silly like a pimp slaps a whore, sending him
staggering down the street
talking to himself.
© MJ Donnelly 2018
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